Speeches (Lines) for Cromwell
in "Henry VIII"

Total: 21

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# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

III,2,1931

Cardinal Wolsey. The packet, Cromwell.
Gave't you the king?

Cromwell. To his own hand, in's bedchamber.


2

III,2,1933

Cardinal Wolsey. Look'd he o' the inside of the paper?

Cromwell. Presently
He did unseal them: and the first he view'd,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.


3

III,2,1940

Cardinal Wolsey. Is he ready
To come abroad?

Cromwell. I think, by this he is.


4

III,2,2279

Cardinal Wolsey. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
[Enter CROMWELL, and stands amazed]
Why, how now, Cromwell!

Cromwell. I have no power to speak, sir.


5

III,2,2284

Cardinal Wolsey. What, amazed
At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fall'n indeed.

Cromwell. How does your grace?


6

III,2,2295

Cardinal Wolsey. Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

Cromwell. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it.


7

III,2,2301

Cardinal Wolsey. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
To endure more miseries and greater far
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Cromwell. The heaviest and the worst
Is your displeasure with the king.


8

III,2,2304

Cardinal Wolsey. God bless him!

Cromwell. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord chancellor in your place.


9

III,2,2312

Cardinal Wolsey. That's somewhat sudden:
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his highness' favour, and do justice
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on em! What more?

Cromwell. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.


10

III,2,2315

Cardinal Wolsey. That's news indeed.

Cromwell. Last, that the Lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open as his queen,
Going to chapel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.


11

III,2,2335

Cardinal Wolsey. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell,
The king has gone beyond me: all my glories
In that one woman I have lost for ever:
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master: seek the king;
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him—
I know his noble nature—not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too: good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.

Cromwell. O my lord,
Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
So good, so noble and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service: but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.


12

III,2,2373

Cardinal Wolsey. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st,
O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;
And,—prithee, lead me in:
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,
And my integrity to heaven, is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

Cromwell. Good sir, have patience.


13

V,3,3054

Lord Chancellor. Speak to the business, master-secretary:
Why are we met in council?

Cromwell. Please your honours,
The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.


14

V,3,3057

Gardiner. Has he had knowledge of it?

Cromwell. Yes.


15

V,3,3132

Gardiner. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
That's the plain truth: your painted gloss discovers,
To men that understand you, words and weakness.

Cromwell. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little,
By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty
To load a falling man.


16

V,3,3140

Gardiner. Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.

Cromwell. Why, my lord?


17

V,3,3143

Gardiner. Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? ye are not sound.

Cromwell. Not sound?


18

V,3,3145

Gardiner. Not sound, I say.

Cromwell. Would you were half so honest!
Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.


19

V,3,3148

Gardiner. I shall remember this bold language.

Cromwell. Do.
Remember your bold life too.


20

V,3,3153

Gardiner. I have done.

Cromwell. And I.


21

V,3,3186

Lord Chancellor. 'Tis now too certain:
How much more is his life in value with him?
Would I were fairly out on't!

Cromwell. My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man, whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye!


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